


five times a power ranger was queer af and one time they all were

by thescuttlebugg



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, Asexual Zack Taylor, Bisexual Trini Kwan, Coming Out, Demisexual Jason Scott, Everyone Is Poly Because Power Rangers, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Kimberly Hart, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Prejudices, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Tommy Oliver, Trans Billy Cranston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescuttlebugg/pseuds/thescuttlebugg
Summary: Labels suck, but so does not knowing how to explain yourself.And so does having to.





	1. MASTODON!

**Author's Note:**

> God bless weird but loving adaptations of my childhood faves. 
> 
> I have still only seen this movie the once so please forgive any characterization/speech-pattern errors I may have made, but I found the Ao3 category and was stricken with a mighty need to fic so here we are.

“Naw, naw,” Zack laughs, squirming away from Trini’s mouth and gently guiding her hands out from underneath his shirt. They’re nice hands and all, he just doesn’t want them up there. “I like the kissing and stuff, but I don’t go all the way.” 

“Oh, you’re _funny_ ,” she snorts, reaching for his fly. 

“No, I’m serious,” he says. Trini blinks, stopping with her fingers literally on his zipper. Normally that’d weird him out more, but it’s Trini, so it’s okay. 

“Really?” she asks. 

“Yeah,” he says. She lets go of the zipper with a puzzled expression and effortlessly proves just why it’s okay she was touching it to begin with, then settles in against his side in front of the bonfire again. It’s just the two of them up here tonight--Kim and Jason are being jocks and actually went to the football game, although _almost_ definitely just to heckle it, and Billy begged off because he was in the zone on some project or another--which Zack is pretty sure is a not-insignificant part of the reason Trini felt comfortable putting her hands all over him to begin with. Or, well. _All_ of the reason, really. 

“Are you, like, waiting?” she asks skeptically. 

“Naw.” Zack shakes his head. “I like the kissing and stuff, like I said, just the rest of it’s kinda . . . gross-sounding? Not, like, with you specifically, just in general.” 

“So you’re gay?” she asks instead. 

“Yeah, no, it sounds gross with _everyone_ ,” he tells her, shaking his head again. “Trust me, I’ve had Jason and Billy both on top of me enough times that if I was into dick, I’d have noticed.” 

“Point,” Trini says. Last week she’d had Jason and Billy both on top of her at the _same time_ , he remembers. Poor girl. “So you’re ace?” 

“I am _absolutely_ aces,” Zack agrees, grinning widely as he tosses her a wink. Trini gives him a dubious look. 

“I said are you _ace_ ,” she says. “As in asexual. You freaking _nerd_.” 

“. . . you mean, like, bacteria and whatever?” 

“That is definitely not what I mean,” Trini snorts. “Do you not like sex?” 

“I mean, I haven’t exactly tried, admittedly,” Zack admits, eyes shifting sidelong as he rubs awkwardly at the side of his neck. He isn’t embarrassed to tell people what he likes or doesn’t like, but it still feels uncomfortable to get into the details of his feelings sometimes. “It just seems--gross. I don’t even really like heavy petting, man, the idea of actually having sex is--like--” 

“Repulsive?” Trini guesses, pulling out her phone. 

“Is that, like, a Rita joke?” Zack asks, squinting at her. Trini’s sense of humor is . . . “questionable”, might be the word. 

“I did not need to make that connection, actually, but thanks,” Trini says with a grimace, then shows him her phone screen and the list of search results on it. “Sex-repulsed asexual. It’s a thing.” 

“Oh,” Zack says as he stares at the page, a little surprised. “I, uh, hadn’t heard of that.” 

“Of course you hadn’t, you hang out in the quarry and climb train cars for fun,” Trini snorts. “ _Some_ of us did our time in the GSA, homeboy.” 

“Your parents actually let you join that?” he asks, even more surprised. 

“They _may_ have thought I was in orchestra at the time,” Trini says, making a face. “Whatever. So does this sound right or what?” 

“Um . . . maybe?” Zack bites his lip, his eyes catching on a few key words in the listed definition. “Kind of, yeah. It’s really a thing?” 

“Yuuuuup. It’s a thing, there’s a word for it and everything,” Trini says, wagging her phone at him. He takes it and clicks through a few more links. She makes the effort to pretend to be _super_ into her root beer while he reads. There’s not really enough left in the bottle for that, but Trini’s a resourceful chick and a good friend; she pulls it off, and Zack is grateful. 

“Shit,” he says after a few minutes, pulling his knees up and hiding his face in them with a laugh, gripping Trini’s phone tight like a--just, gripping it tight. “Wow.” 

“Is that just what you do?” Trini asks him, leaning in to peer at him. “You didn’t even know it was a thing, you just give everybody that little speech?” 

“I don’t know why you think there’s really an ‘everybody’ for me to be giving it to,” Zack says wryly, turning his head just enough to smile at her. Trini takes the last sip of root beer. She is the coolest girl he’s ever met, probably. 

“Kim and Billy and Jason never heard this?” she asks. 

“Not yet.” Zack shrugs, smiling a little wider and feeling--a _lot_ , pretty much. Just. A lot of feelings. “Hasn’t, you know. Come up.” 

“. . . Zack Taylor, if that’s a dick joke--” 

“It is if anyone else asks.” 

_“Zack.”_


	2. PTERODACTYL!

Some days Kim wakes up and nothing fits right: not her clothes, not her face, not her body, not even her own damn name. Some days she stands in front of her mirror and thinks about hacking off the rest of her hair; some days she stands in front of her mirror and wishes she’d never taken off even an inch. 

Some days are . . . some days, she guesses. 

“I look stupid,” she says in frustration, eyeing herself up and down. 

“I think you look nice,” Jason says, glancing up at her from under his lashes. He’s sitting on the edge of her bed, and something about that under-the-lash look does more for-- _her_ \--than anything she’s wearing. 

She thinks “she” is the right word, right now. 

Maybe not. 

“It’s not like I mind being a girl,” she says, touching her face and inspecting herself-- _himself_ , Kim thinks, not feeling better about it--in the mirror more closely. He--she?--has pulled her/his hair back into a low ponytail and she/he is wearing loose jeans and a looser T-shirt with clunky sneakers and Jason’s too-big letterman jacket. The results are . . . mixed. “I _like_ being a girl.” 

“You look nice as a girl, too,” Jason says. Kimberly’s mouth twists. It’s not about how she looks. Except it really, really is, she admits to herself. So maybe it’s just-- 

“I don’t care about looking _nice_ ,” she says. “I care about looking _like_ \--” She bites the sentence off, because she doesn’t know how to finish it. Like a girl? Like a guy? Like neither at all, or both at once? 

She doesn’t know. She can’t answer a question that has a different answer every day that easily. 

Jason gives her that under-the-lash look again and she-- _he_ \--leaves the mirror. He/she puts her/his hands on his shoulders and the slightest exertion of pressure has him laying back pliantly on the bed. 

“Nothing fits,” he/she murmurs, crawling over Jason who wraps his arms around her/his neck and spreads his thighs to make the perfect place for him/her to fit on top of him. 

It’s nice. But it’s not _right_ , because nothing about today is right. The clothes are wrong--cheap stuff from Target, not the way she/he’d _really_ dress if he/she could--not the face, too narrow and soft and smooth--not the body, also too narrow even with the extra muscle from the power coins, shaved smooth where Kimberly doesn’t want it to be but tomorrow would probably hate to _not_ have it be--

And the _name_ \-- 

She/he kisses Jason. Jason kisses back. He smells like plain soap and Old Spice and he/she smells like hibiscus and peach, probably, if she/he hasn’t sweated off his/her body wash yet. It’s not _right_ , not how Jason would expect a real guy to smell, not--

Kim puts a hand on Jason’s side where his shirt’s all rucked up from settling in against the mattress and he makes a soft little sound, sounding almost as surprised by the touch as he/she is. 

She/he could’ve done this with Trini. Probably _should’ve_ done this with Trini; Trini’s a girl and the smallest of all of them, Trini wouldn’t make him/her feel like such a fake just for being who _she_ is. It’s not Jason’s fault, he’s just--he’s _big_ , he’s a big guy, and he’s tall and strong and the American dream, and what does he know about this kind of thing? Nothing. He’s never had to learn it. He’s always fit just right in his skin, even if not necessarily the expectations placed upon it. 

But his face, his skin, his name . . . yeah. 

How is anyone supposed to feel like a man compared to _Jason Scott_ , of all people? Especially while not stopping _him_ from feeling like one? That’s not what Kim wants to do. She/he wants them both to feel good--feel _right_. He/she just . . . doesn’t know how. 

_“Oh,”_ Jason gasps against Kim’s ear, his fingers digging in against her/his back and his knees squeezing his/her sides. 

Does that help, Kim wonders? Is that enough? Is this how other men feel, when they aren’t sure if they’re man enough? 

He/she wants to feel like a man. She/he wants . . . 

Kim doesn’t even _know_ what to want. To fold Jason in half and make him sound the way he sounds right now for the whole rest of the night and maybe all the way into tomorrow; to have picked Trini for this; to have Zack and Billy here too so this wouldn’t seem so _complicated_ ; to never ever tell anyone about this ever. Kim wants a lot of things, more than a few of them contradictory to each other. 

But that’s nothing new. 

“Jason,” Kim says, trying not to think of herself/himself as himself/herself. Just--Kim. Just being Kim is going to have to be enough right now, even if “Kim” doesn’t always fit either. 

“Kim,” Jason murmurs back, and lets Kim hook an arm under his knee and push his thigh back into his chest and their hips together. Is this the thing that’s going to be too much, Kim wonders? The one that pushes it over the line for him? 

He lets Kim do it, though, and makes another soft little noise when Kim puts Kim’s _(too small, too slender, too perfectly-manicured)_ hand on his chest. He doesn’t tell Kim to stop, and he doesn’t complain that Kim is making him feel like the girl or emasculating him or--

_Is this really okay?_ Kim tries to ask, but can’t ask. Kim’s fingers curl in Jason’s shirt, bunching and rucking the fabric, and Jason shivers. 

“Kim,” he breathes again, and Kim--and Kim--

Is this right? Is Kim doing this right? 

Jason shivers again. Kim kisses him. He kisses Kim back. His knees squeeze around Kim again, pressed in tight against the bicep and the ribs. 

Kim’s strong enough to fold Jason in half. Kim’s strong enough to carry Jason around like a little _kid_ , if Kim felt like it. Kim’s strong enough to pin Jason’s wrists down against the bed and keep them there, which Kim knows because Kim did that in practice last week and Jason couldn’t break the hold. 

Maybe he didn’t want to, Kim thinks, eyes flicking to the pale and vulnerable inside of the other’s wrist as he reaches up to put a hand on Kim’s face. 

Kim turns just enough to bite that vulnerable place, and Jason _shudders_. Kim grabs the back of his wrist and bites again, harder. Jason makes another one of those _noises_ and Kim pins his hand to the bed and his thigh to his chest and maybe this is it, maybe this is what being a man feels like, maybe maybe maybe-- 

“Kim, Kim, _Kim_ \--” 

\--maybe maybe _maybe_ \-- 

Jason _moans_. Kim kisses him from inside cheap, loose clothes and his own letterman jacket and feels like . . . feels . . . 

“Oh, wow,” Jason pants, half-laughing, looking all warm and lit up underneath . . . Kim. Kimberly. Her, or him, or . . . 

“You’re such a great guy,” Kim mutters, head shaking before kissing him again. Jason smiles up into it, dopey and sweet-looking. 

“You’re such a great person,” he says, because of _course_ that’s what he’d say. 

Trini might’ve been a better choice, Kim thinks, but being able to do this with someone who’s _not_ the better choice, someone who hasn’t had to learn these things, someone who’s someone like _Jason_ . . . 

Well. It’s a choice, isn’t it. 

“I’’m not sure what I am,” Kim murmurs. 

“Okay,” Jason says like it’s simple, because Jason never had to learn otherwise, and kisses . . . Kim, or whatever Kim is. 

Kim kisses him back, wishing the words to explain it all to him would come, but for once not all that worried that they haven’t shown up yet.


	3. TRICERATOPS!

They’re training and this round Billy gets put against Zack. He likes fighting Zack; Zack’s less careful with him than Jason and Kim, and also a bigger target than Trini. So he gets to get hit, and learn from that, but he also doesn’t get too frustrated because he can’t hit _him_ , and he learns from _that_. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like fighting the others; those are just the reasons he likes fighting Zack. 

Also, Zack laughs a lot, and it sounds really nice. That’s a thing Billy likes about fighting Zack too. 

He throws a punch and Zack evades it. He throws another punch and it hits. Zack kicks him in the head and sends him reeling and he comes back up swinging and Zack goes down laughing. 

It’s pretty great, Billy thinks. He never had fun with sports or fighting as a kid, but it’s amazing how not always being the last one picked helps with that. He’s still the weakest fighter--it’s just not in him the same way as it is the others, he guesses, the physicality and the _rush_ \--but he _can_ fight, and the way he fights is still valuable to the team. 

He really likes being valuable. 

Zack tackles Billy and they both go down, much-practiced techniques all reduced to the kind of playground fighting Billy always avoided, except for when he didn’t have a choice and could only curl up and hope it’d stop as soon as possible. With Zack and the others, though, he knows if he ever did that they’d stop immediately. He wouldn’t even _have_ to do that--they always stop hitting him the second he stops hitting them. 

Well, sometimes they’ll accidentally hit him one last time before they realize he’s stopped. But they’re always _very_ sorry while he’s waving them off in an attempt to get to the nearest piece of scrap paper so he can write down the idea that distracted him, because it’s pretty much always an idea that’s distracted him. Sparring helps him think, it turns out. So Billy doesn’t mind when they don’t realize he’s distracted in time to pull their punches, although he’d mind even less if they’d just--let him--get at--that _paper_ \--! 

It’s still pretty great. 

Billy punches Zack in the face. Zack laughs and punches back. Billy knees Zack in the gut and Zack throws Billy over his head, and a violent ripping sound tears through the cave. Billy takes automatic note of it and the way his shoulder suddenly has less fabric resistance under his polo shirt and hums to himself, then punches Zack in the face again. 

They scuffle a little longer, until Kim checks the timer on her phone and calls it, and Zack collapses panting and laughing and Billy sits down in the middle of the floor and tugs down the collar of his shirt to check on--

“Shoot,” he says as he glimpses the thick, half-torn strap straining across his shoulder, frowning at the damage. “My binder ripped.” 

“Your what?” Jason asks, blinking. 

“Wait, is that a sports bra?” Kim asks with a baffled expression. 

“No, it’s a binder,” Billy corrects, prodding at the torn strap with a deeper frown. “The superpowers have been rough on my tighter clothes. Well. All my clothes, really. Just I guess the tighter ones it’s worse.” 

“Yeah, I think we’re all having that problem, dude,” Zack says with a lazy grin, tugging pointedly at the slightly-tattered collar of his own shirt in imitation of the gesture Billy’s making. Billy makes a note to buy him clothes for Christmas. Zack doesn’t have an especially large wardrobe as it is. 

“Aw, and here we all thought homeboy was just trying to look pretty for us,” Trini says with a smirk. 

“Please, I don’t have to _try_ ,” Zack scoffs. 

“That’s true,” Billy agrees with an easy nod, because it is. “Zack’s always very pretty.” 

Zack turns red. The others laugh. Billy doesn’t get what’s funny, really, but lets it slide in favor of inspecting the damage to his binder a little more closely. He’s not sure if he can sew it. Well, he _can_ sew it, obviously, but he’s not sure if the thread will hold. It’s a very tight garment, and it’s meant to compress much less durable flesh than the flesh Billy is currently wandering around in. 

Maybe he can synthesize something with the ship’s tech, he thinks. There’s got to be _something_ onboard meant to create clothing, doesn’t there? If the ship was close enough to the previous Rangers’ civilization, there’s no way someone wouldn’t have come and collected it, so obviously it must’ve been self-sufficient. 

Well--no, perhaps that’s unfair. There’s no saying what an alien civilization would do with their dead. Billy can’t even reliably say what all _human_ civilizations do with their dead, aside from vague assumptions based on conjecture and rumor. Who knows what Zordon’s people do. 

. . . would’ve done? 

Hm. 

“So, uh--what’s a binder?” Kim asks while sneaking another peek at Billy’s bared shoulder. He blinks, somewhat surprised by the question. 

“It’s compression clothing,” he says. “It makes my chest flat.” 

“. . . is that, like, a lung capacity thing?” Jason’s expression is confused. Kim doesn’t seem to be any less puzzled either. 

“You people all need to do _so much_ reading,” Trini says, putting her face in her hands. 

“So, like . . . _that_ kind of binder,” Zack says, edging a bit closer to Billy to get a better look at the torn strap over his shoulder. Billy allows it. Zack’s an invasive person, but he lets people invade him just as much in return, so Billy doesn’t mind. 

“I don’t really know other kinds,” Billy says, wrinkling his nose at him. “Except, like, the Trapper Keeper kind. But you don’t mean that kind, right?” 

“Nnnnot so much, no,” Zack says. “Is, uh, that _safe_ to wear during training?” 

“. . . hm,” Billy says, frowning to himself. “Maybe not, actually.” 

“Billy!” Jason exclaims in alarm. 

“I’ll check,” Billy promises, tugging one last time at his torn strap and then letting it go and straightening his collar. He hadn’t really thought about it, with the super-strength and endurance, but if the binder’s compressing his body at all he still has limits, and he’d better figure them out quick. “Hm. Kim, where do you buy your sports bras? I like yours better than Trini’s.” 

“I--what?” Kim asks, looking alarmed. 

“They’re from Victoria’s Secret,” Zack volunteers helpfully. 

“Of _course_ you know that,” Trini says in exasperation. 

“. . . I don’t want to go to Victoria’s Secret,” Billy says, frowning at the thought. Victoria’s Secret is _very_ . . . pink. 

“It’s okay, dude, I’ll go for you,” Trini tells him. “Just get me your size and I’ll brave the terrible pink aisles.” 

“I’m missing something,” Kim says. “And they don’t even _have_ aisles at Victoria’s Secret, Trini.” 

“Oh,” Billy says, blinking at her as Trini makes a complicated gesture that he _thinks_ means something along the lines of “how would I know??”. Or maybe _“why would I care??”_. Or something similar, he assumes. “I have breasts, but I don’t like them. I don’t really want to get top surgery until I know what my college expenses are going to be like, though, so I’ve been wearing a binder. And also now I’m a little concerned about how the healing process will impact training and if I should be operated on by human surgeons at all, actually, because--well, you know, the alien superpowers thing, and I’m not sure if that’ll be a problem? Do you think it will?” 

“I . . . have no idea,” Kim says, blinking back at him with a very confused expression. Billy isn’t sure why. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks. 

“No, that’s not, uh--” Kim winces. “I just didn’t know that you used to be . . . I mean, that you were . . . that, uh--” 

“We were in the same kindergarten class, Kim,” Billy says, just _looking_ at her. 

“Ohhhh man,” Kim groans. “Oh man, I’m the worst.” 

“Oh,” Jason says, startling slightly. “Oh! Shit! That’s right!” 

“You _both_ forgot?” Billy frowns at them. “I’m not sure if I’m pleased or annoyed. I think both. I think it’s both, probably.” 

“Sorry!” Jason says, wincing too and holding his hands up. “Sorry! Oh man, I totally forgot. Mrs. Worth gave us a speech and everything, didn’t she.” 

“I also was annoyed by that speech,” Billy remembers. “It could’ve been much more informative.” 

“Is it weird this is making me happy?” Zack asks the group at large, tipping his head back to glance at them. “This is a weird thing to be happy about, right?” 

“Yes,” Billy says, squinting questioningly at him. “I mean, I don’t mind that you’re happy, but it’s still weird. Why are you happy?” 

“I dunno.” Zack shrugs. “Tipping the scales on the weirdo queer kids versus the normies just that little bit further, I guess. Can’t complain about that.” 

Billy looks at him, then Trini and Kimberly, then Jason, and then down at himself. None of those sights provide clarity as to what Zack is talking about. 

“I don’t think you’re that weird, Zack,” he says finally. “Jason and Kim are pretty weird for forgetting that I’m trans, though. That seems like a weird thing to forget.” 

“We’re _sorry_!” Kim says, turning red. 

“Do you always like being a guy, then?” Jason hedges uncertainly, seeming awkward in the question. Billy frowns, puzzled. 

“I always _am_ a guy,” he says. He doesn’t really understand where Jason got the question. 

“Do _you_ not always?” Trini asks, which--oh. Okay, maybe he should’ve figured that one out. 

“Um. No,” Kim says, shifting awkwardly. “That’s me. I don’t always like--uh.” 

“Oh,” Billy realizes. No wonder Jason asked in that _tone_ , then. “No, yes, I’m a trans male. That sounds like being genderfluid. It’s different?” 

“Is it?” Kim bites--hm. One moment. 

“What pronouns do you like, Kim?” Billy asks. 

“. . . I don’t like pronouns at all,” Kim says, looking uncomfortable. “They’re--weird.” 

“Okay,” Billy says. “Well, I like ‘he’, personally. I’m fine with that one.” 

“Me too,” Jason says immediately. 

“Yeah, same,” Zack says, grinning. 

“Don’t look at me,” Trini snorts, making a face at them. “We got enough ‘he’ over here, I’m ‘she’ all the way.” 

“I mean, I did do ‘she’ for a while,” Billy says. “No offense to it or anything, it’s just not for me.” 

“This from the boy who transitioned in _kindergarten_ ,” Trini laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair into her beanie. “You’re really cool, Billy. I don’t think I’ve been that sure of anything in my _life_. Like, I’d have freaked out.” 

“I wasn’t really worried, honestly,” Billy says with a shrug--just one shoulder, in case using both might snap the binder. He’s still hoping he can patch it up. They’re kind of expensive. “The worst thing that could’ve happened was I would’ve been wrong, and then I just would’ve had to get Mrs. Worth to give another speech. Although probably that would’ve been annoying too, so maybe I would’ve waited for first grade for that. Miss Pepper was much better at explaining things.” 

“Totally,” Kim agrees, giving him this funny look. It’s kind of soft. Billy likes it, but doesn’t bother trying to analyze the mystifying nuances to said softness. It rarely works anyway. 

“I thought you all already knew,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to lie about anything.” 

“We know, dude,” Jason says. Which--obviously they do. 

It’s still nice to hear it, Billy decides, pushing himself back up. 

“I’m going to go change so my binder doesn’t tear,” he informs the rest of the group. “But I have a sports bra in my bag for when I need to take it off, so I’m gonna come back after. I want to fight Kim next.” Kim is fast and graceful and puts her teeth in her smile when she fights, which is why he likes fighting her. 

“You got it, Billy,” Kim says among the echos of affirmations from the others, pulling Kim’s hair back tighter and re-doing the elastic holding it back. Billy hums contentedly and heads for the hall, because there’s nothing else to bother saying. 

He’s pleased, he notices belatedly, although he can’t pin down the exact source of the feeling.


	4. SABER-TOOTHED TIGER!

“I don’t like labels,” Trini says for the eight millionth time without looking up from her homework. She’s a bisexual biromantic cisgender queer Latina woman. Well. Nearly a woman. She figures she should get to call herself a woman after one-fifth saving the world, no matter how old she is or isn’t. She should get to call or not call herself _whatever_ , after one-fifth saving the world. 

“I kind of do,” Billy says distractedly, not looking up from his own textbook. “It’s so--tidy, you know? No, that’s not the right word. But it makes more sense, and it’s easier for people to understand what you’re talking about.” 

“People never understand,” Trini snorts. 

“I know,” Billy says, turning the page. “But it’s really hard to communicate if you can’t, you know, _communicate_. And I’m already pretty bad at that. Actually, no, that’s kind of dumb to say. _I_ communicate perfectly reasonably. Just everybody thinks I should communicate like _them_ instead of just, I don’t know, _listening_ to me. But you still have to communicate even when other people are being difficult about it. Unfortunately.” 

“Doesn’t it bug you, though?” Trini asks. She frowns down at her math homework, resting her chin in her hand. “Everybody’s always _asking_. Everybody wants to _know_. But then if you tell them it’s like--there’s always a wrong answer. Pretty much it’s _all_ wrong answers. Unless you tell them exactly what they wanna hear, they’re gonna hold it against you.” 

“People are gonna hold stuff against us no matter what we tell them,” Billy points out, which--well. He’s not wrong. Zack comes back in the room with two six-packs of root beer and three big bags of chips from the corner store and kicks the door closed without even thinking about it, and Trini glances over as he does. Every time Kim comes over, her parents say she has to keep the door open--and they _check_. No matter how few or many of the boys she brings, they never say a thing. 

It really pisses her off, sometimes. 

“Hey, do you care if Billy and I mess around for a while?” she asks Zack. 

“Um?” Billy blinks at her. 

“That is the best idea I’ve heard all day, actually,” Zack says, grinning at her. Trini’s starting to suspect he likes watching, even if he doesn’t actually get off on it. She doesn’t get it, but it’s not like she minds. 

“You up for it?” she asks Billy, who frowns a little. 

“Not _literally_ ,” he says. “But figuratively, yes. What do you want to mess up?” 

“Each other, ideally,” Trini says as she tugs her beanie off and shrugs out of her jacket. 

“. . . okay, but I don’t want to get my clothes dirty, though.” 

“No dirty clothes,” she promises, then puts down her textbook and crawls into his lap to kiss him. Billy makes the same surprised noise he does every time he gets kissed, even though it can’t possibly be a surprise anymore. “Muss me up a bit though, okay?” 

“If you want,” Billy says, frowning doubtfully for a moment but pushing a hand into her hair all the same. Trini kisses him again. Billy is pretty nice to kiss, for a guy without too much experience at it. He takes criticism well, never pretends to “forget” that someone doesn’t like something, and has the patience of a freaking _saint_. Trini has frequently settled for just one or two out of three of those things, honestly, so getting the hat trick is a treat and a half. 

So they kiss. Billy musses her up, just like she asked, and she keeps him neat just like he asked. Zack totally ignores his homework to watch them like he thinks this is Pay-Per-View, snacks and all, because _Zack_. He refrains from either heckling or backseat driving, though, so whatever. 

“Is this a labels thing?” Billy asks curiously as Trini checks how smudged her lip gloss is in her camera app and wonders if it’d show up on his collar. Too bad he wants his clothes to stay clean. 

“I dunno,” she says, then puckers her lips and leans over so they’re both in frame to send Kim and Jason a snap. Even if he’s not mussed up like her, Billy’s still got that breathless, dark-eyed look he pretty much always gets when he gets kissed really well, which is honestly one of Trini’s favorite expressions of all time. Might as well share the bounty, especially considering she’s already sharing with Zack. 

“Labels?” Zack asks. 

“We were talking about it while you were gone,” Trini says, captioning the snap with a bunch of happy and flirty emoticons before sending it. “Long story short, my parents suck and so does the world.” 

“Totally,” Zack agrees, offering Trini the Doritos and once again affirming his very justified place on her very short list of people who _don’t_ suck. She eats a couple and feeds Billy one. He actually bites it out of her hand, which should not really be so hot, but--yeah, anything Billy does that is less than perfectly tidy is pretty hot, she’s not even gonna pretend like it’s not. She thinks it means he’s comfortable with them. Hopes, anyway. 

Trini’s phone pings. Kim’s sent back a snap that is nothing but the lipsticked line of Jason’s throat and his half cut off grin, teeth caught against his soft and well-kissed lower lip. Trini makes an appreciative noise and saves it, because of _course_ she saves it. 

“Hm,” Billy muses as he peers at the screen. “Do you think the morphing grid is connecting us enough to influence our behavior?” 

“I mean, maybe? But it’s not that big a coincidence we’re all kissing right now,” Trini replies with a shrug. “I’m not sure why we’re all not _always_ kissing, honestly.” 

“. . . that’s a fair counterpoint,” Billy admits, his eyes flicking down to her mouth. She grins, because of course she grins. 

“Yeah?” she asks. “I dunno, you’re not kissing me right _now_ . . .” 

She sends three more snaps before surrendering the phone to Zack in favor of giving Billy’s mouth all the attention it so richly deserves. Zack, being Zack, immediately starts recording them. 

“Say hi to our favorite screw-ups!” Zack says cheerfully. 

“Hi, Zack,” Trini deadpans, breaking off mouthing along Billy’s jaw just long enough to smirk at the camera. Zack laughs and blows her a kiss. 

“You guys aren’t screw-ups,” Billy says loyally. “Except when you’re screwing up on purpose. Then you’re kind of screw-ups. But not really, I guess, since the screwing up is the point.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Zack says fondly. Trini’s pretty sure he just zoomed the camera in and is frankly surprised it didn’t happen sooner. “Oh, hey, should we FaceTime this?” 

“Hell yes,” Trini says firmly, tucking her hands into Billy’s back pockets as he mimics Kim’s lipstick-line up her neck. On that note, she wonders what Billy’s thoughts on lipstick are. And Zack’s. And Jason’s. She and Kim both usually lean towards the natural look, but right now she’s really seeing the benefits of that dark, possessive pink smeared over Jason’s pulse. She’d like to see it on his mouth, too--and not just in the sense that she’s like to see Kim put it there. 

Well. If Kim _applies_ it, maybe. She could get behind that. It sounds like a thing Zack would like, too--anything intimate he likes to watch as far as she can tell, as long as everybody’s clothes stay more or less on, but that’s a new kind of intimate. Kim’s done Trini’s makeup for her before, and she’s returned the favor. It was pretty nice. 

But right now, she’s just gonna make out with Billy for Kim and Jason and Zack and get all mussed up, and her parents can just deal with however they all look by the time she bothers opening that door again. 

And if they have a problem with it--well, they’ve _always_ been the ones with the problem, haven’t they?


	5. TYRANNOSAURUS!

Jason didn’t notice at first, because it wasn’t really happening at first. Which is how it is for him, generally speaking, but--still. He didn’t notice, because there was nothing to notice. 

Except surviving the eleven days between you, the best friends you’ve ever had, and the end of the world will make you notice a _lot_ , it turns out. 

Trini pulls her hair over her shoulder and Jason notices. Kim wears a tight pair of shorts and Jason _notices_. Billy’s fingers curve around a mishmash of alien machinery, deft and knowing and certain, and Jason definitely, definitely notices. 

And then Zack takes his shirt off and Jason walks into a wall. 

It’s exactly as dignified as it _doesn’t_ sound, yes. 

After practice Zack comes home with him, laughs at the size of his bedroom--again--and makes out with him on his floor. The bedframe squeaks too much, especially with Zack; he likes to roll around a lot. It’s fun, so Jason doesn’t mind it, but he _definitely_ doesn’t want his mom figuring out it’s what they’re doing. 

They kiss some more. Zack puts his hands in Jason’s hair and bites his ear. Jason makes one of the weird sounds he’s been having a _really_ hard time not making lately, and Zack makes a pleasantly surprised noise at the press of--oh. Oh, _that’s_ embarrassing. 

“Oh, wow,” Zack laughs as Jason jerks back, still sounding surprised. “ _That’s_ new.” 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Jason says, rolling off him quick and pulling his knees up awkwardly as he sits up against the bed. Zack laughs again and sits up to wrap his arms around him. 

“It’s cool, dude, I don’t mind,” he says. “Just keep your hands off mine and we’re good.” 

“Sorry,” Jason repeats anyway, internally _dying_. 

“It’s cool,” Zack says again, burying a smile against his shoulder. “I’m kinda flattered, I think? I mean, you’re not really into the sexy stuff either, right?” 

“No,” Jason says, half-hiding his face behind a hand and staring at the carpet in mortification as he tries to banish all the mental images that very vague statement just brought up. It doesn’t help that Zack’s still all pressed up against his side. “No, I definitely am. Just not, uh--not usually with people I haven’t . . . known very long. Um.” 

“You wanna have sex with me?” Zack asks curiously. 

“No, but that’s because _you_ don’t want to have sex,” Jason says. “Trust me, if you did, I would have a really, really different answer.” 

“Ooo, what a gentleman,” Zack teases, flicking his ear lightly. “So you _would_ wanna have sex with, like--Billy or Kim? You basically grew up knowing them, right?” 

“I mean. Kind of,” Jason says, pretty sure he just went three shades of red darker. “It’s not just _knowing_ somebody, I mean, it’s--knowing somebody _well_ , I guess.” 

“Ohhhh, stop the presses, Golden Boy doesn’t like one-night stands,” Zack laughs. “That’s cute.” 

“It’s just how I am,” Jason says, shifting uncomfortably. It’s not that he _wouldn’t_ , theoretically, have a one-night stand; it’s just he’s never been attracted to anyone who he could maybe have one with. And really to be honest, he’s pretty neutral on the idea as it is. 

“So you do? Or you don’t?” Zack asks, hooking his chin over his shoulder. 

“I think I do,” Jason admits, flushing darkly again. “They’re both really--and we’ve kind of--I mean, there’s been some--um.” 

“You are terrible at this,” Zack informs him with a grin. “Trini?” 

“I think so,” Jason says slowly. “It’s sort of . . . weird, for me. I’m not used to looking at people and just, like, immediately thinking _‘they’re so hot, I want to bang them!’_ ” 

“But now you are?” Zack grins with all his teeth and wags his eyebrows at him. Jason regrets _everything_ , most especially his dick’s really inappropriate sense of timing. 

“Yeah,” he says anyway, considering grabbing a pillow off his bed to just kind of--stick in his lap or something. Squish there. Leave to _die_ there. “I mean, I do like sex, I just don’t usually look at _people_ and think about sex. Is that weird? That’s probably weird.” 

“Only in the sense you might be one of us weirdo queer kids after all,” Zack says, smiling against his arm. 

“. . . Zack we were literally _just making out_.” 

“Naw, not queer enough,” Zack scoffs. “Who cares if you’re--bi? I’m figuring you’re bi?” 

“I don’t know the difference,” Jason admits. He’s been trying to do some reading, like Trini said, but probably he should do some more of it. There’s just a lot to get through. 

“Of course you don’t,” Zack says, amused. “Who cares if you like more than one gender, then. We’re _all_ like that. Hell, that barely even _counts_ after the morphing grid and the world-saving and everything.” 

“Whatever,” Jason grumbles. It would _definitely_ count if he came out. Like--a lot. His parents would very definitely think it counted. “So what’s the weirdo verdict, then?” 

“Mmm, sounds like maybe you’re demi,” Zack says. “Which might technically be under the asexuality umbrella, I think? So actually you _are_ kinda like me. You know, if you’re into that.” 

“Don’t you mean _not_ into that?” Jason asks dryly. Zack sniggers and gives him a shove. 

“Hey, _I’m_ the funny guy in this conversation, Scott,” he says. “Don’t go getting any ideas on me.” 

“It’s weird enough getting ideas at _all_ ,” Jason says with a low laugh, and Zack snickers and shoves his mouth in behind his ear, dragging his tongue up in a thick wet stripe. _“Zack!”_

“Not into that?” Zack asks, eyebrows waggling. Jason grabs that pillow after all, and squishes it into the other’s face. 

“That was gross!” he says, making a face as he wipes the spit off his neck. Zack drags down the pillow and grins even wider than before. 

“So you _were_ into it,” he says. 

“I didn’t say--!” 

“Ooh Mister Scott, you’re so handsome and horny, but don’t you know, our love can _never_ be consummated--” 

“I am gonna throw you out the _window_ ,” Jason swears, tackling a cackling Zack back to the floor. Zack kisses him again, because Zack is the objective _worst_. Jason kisses back, because apparently he likes to punish himself. He’s got some more reading to do, he guesses, but it can wait. 

Specifically, until after the cold shower. 

And, well. A little more of the kissing.


	6. POWER RANGERS!!

“Wait, you’re _all_ dating?” Tommy Oliver asks, staring incredulously at--basically the rest of detention, pretty much, pretty much _everyone_ in detention. Like, five out of eight of the other people in detention, at least. 

This school is very different from the last school. 

“Yeah?” Billy Cranston says doubtfully, looking up from laying out his colored pencils across his desk. Kimberly Hart is holding his free hand and sitting in Zack Taylor’s lap while he and Trini Kwan play a very aggressive game of footsie under her desk; Jason Scott has sabotaged said game no less than three times so far, mostly by either kicking Zack in the back of the knee or kissing the crook of Trini’s neck. Also, Kimberly’s feet are in his lap. 

Maybe that was a stupid question, Tommy thinks. 

“Why, you got a problem?” Jason says, pausing mid-kick to narrow his eyes. Tommy frowns. It’s not a _problem_ , exactly, buuut . . . 

“. . . well, no, but does this mean I should ask you out, like, _collectively_ , orrrr . . . ?” 

“. . . that’s a good question,” Billy says thoughtfully, then looks to the others. “Vote?” 

“On being asked out collectively, or on Tommy Oliver?” Zack asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well--either?” Billy says. “Tommy, I guess, that’ll save time since we’re all here. We can always vote on the other stuff later.” 

“You want to vote on Tommy Oliver with Tommy Oliver right _there_ ,” Trini says, eyeing Billy dryly. 

“I don’t mind,” Tommy volunteers, because there’s not much point in minding. It’s not like the answer’d be any different either way, and _this_ way it’ll be faster. Waiting around who-knows-how-long for a response sounds like some fresh hell, honestly. 

“See, Tommy says it’s okay,” Billy says. 

“I vote yes,” Kimberly says helpfully. 

“. . . on Tommy Oliver, or the other stuff?” Zack asks. 

“On Tommy Oliver,” Kimberly says, sparing Tommy a sly grin that is just--okay, yes, Tommy is _very glad_ to have stuck around for the voting, even if just to get grinned at like that. 

This school is _very_ different from the last school. 

“Thank you for your vote,” Tommy says. Kimberly laughs. 

“Probationary yes, I guess,” Trini decides, trapping Zack’s feet between her own--surprisingly effectively, considering the size difference between the two of them. “Since Kim’s cool with it.” 

“Probationary yes, since Trini’s cool with it,” Zack says, grinning up at Tommy. Tommy kind of wants to sit on him. Or maybe pin him to the desk. One or the other. 

“I guess that’s already a majority so we don’t really need to finish the vote,” Billy muses, looking at his colored pencils with a speculative expression. 

“I think this kind of thing needs to be unanimous,” Jason says, tapping his foot quick against the floor. Tommy wonders if that means he’s going to vote “no”. 

“Oh,” Billy says, blinking rapidly before looking towards Jason--not quite making eye contact, but looking at him all the same. “Then I vote yes too. Tommy likes paleontology and karate, has a nice face, and runs really fast. I think that’s promising date material.” 

“Is running really fast that important?” Tommy asks, grinning wryly and internally wondering how the _hell_ Billy found out about the paleontology. Everybody knows about the karate--everybody in detention, at least--but that, not so much. 

“Yes,” the other five reply in unison. Which . . . okay, then. 

“In that case, I run a four-minute mile,” Tommy says, grin widening. It’s not the weirdest thing someone’s wanted to know before saying yes to a date, honestly. 

“. . . hm,” Jason says. The other four all look to him in unison, and Tommy gets the feeling that even if Jason hadn’t already said they should vote unanimously, he could still say “no” right now and they’d all listen without so much as asking for an explanation. 

“I also found some cool rocks out in the quarry last weekend,” Tommy says, deciding it’s okay to let a little bit of the shyness that asking an entire _relationship_ out at once is bringing up show. Jason seems like the type to respond to authenticity. 

“Cool rocks?” Billy perks up noticeably. “How cool?” 

“Pretty cool,” Tommy says. “Wanna see?” 

“Yes,” Billy says. Tommy digs them out from the depths of the much-abused pockets they’re hiding in and sets them down on Billy’s desk, careful not to disturb his pencils. It’s pretty obvious he likes having everything just so. Tommy spent most of the weekend at the quarry, and the best of said weekend’s haul is a broken precambrian fossil, some chipped obsidian, and--the coolest by far--a weirdly bright green stone Tommy hasn’t been able to identify. It’s not any kind of crystal Tommy’s ever seen, but it’s too clear to be chert and _way_ too shiny for serpentinite, and there’s no way there was an actual _emerald_ just lying around half-buried in the middle of a quarry floor. Like, not a chance. 

It looks really cool, though, definitely. 

Jason looks at the green rock. So do the others. Tommy resists the urge to preen, but is still pleased they seem interested. It’s kind of hard to find common interests with other kids at school when said common interests are “poking at weird rocks and kicking people really hard”, but if _anyone_ would consider those interests common . . . 

“Yeah,” Jason says eventually, glancing back up at Tommy, who definitely _does_ preen this time. 

“Yeah?” Kimberly peeks at Jason as she takes her feet off his lap and leans forward in Zack’s, Trini leaning against her to get a closer look at the rocks on Billy’s desk. 

“Yeah,” Jason says again, nodding this time and still looking at Tommy, who is not gonna stop preening anytime soon--not under _that_ look. “Let’s go on a date.” 

“Awesome,” Tommy says, grinning wide. “What are your feelings on trespassing on private property?” 

“Pretty good, actually,” Jason says, mouth quirking in amusement, and Tommy grins so hard it _hurts_. 

Yeah, this is gonna be a good time. 

“Cool.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://thescuttlebugg.tumblr.com/)!


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